


Bookburning

by Sashasanidea



Series: Bookburning and other shit. [1]
Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, They meet, Writer!Jack, book burning, if i ever write a sequel, this will become a series, troubled!Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7350568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashasanidea/pseuds/Sashasanidea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet on a hill, but what does it mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bookburning

**Author's Note:**

> Thi has been in my files for so long, waiting to be posted. So here it is.  
> I'll make this into a serie that will become more nsfw i think.  
> I hope you enjoy it.  
> English is still my third language thank you.

The boy was covered in tattoos and his floofy hair was dyed a vibrant colour. He tore pages out of the book with determination, like it had hurt him personally. The pages were burned one by one like he was exorcising them.  
After the ashes spread in the wind he huffed and started on the next page. For how good Jack could see in the dark, the pages had text scribbled on them.

Jack had been standing there just looking at the guy, he felt intrigued but also a little bit frightened. The guy looked very intimidating. Jack groaned a bit when another page was ripped out. The guy on the ground looked up and frowned at Jack, his eyes seemed almost black in the evening light. Jack swallowed softly and looked away for a second.

The guy dropped his book on the ground and stood up right, he was just a little bit taller than Jack but much broader. His hair hinted blue and his tattoos looked jetblack.  
The man looked Jack right in the eyes and growled, jack couldn't believe his ears for a second. A grown man growled at him and he didn’t walk away right away.

After that they were inseparable. They never spoke, they never did anything other than sit together on the edge of the big hill. Jack watched the man as he burned the books with the scribbly handwriting in them. The man rubbed Jack’s back softly when he was crying again, never asking for a reason, never asking for an explanation. Every night they sat there, 3 months in a row until Jack had to move again. He never told the man he was leaving, just left him a letter hoping he wouldn't burn that.

3 years later Jack was on a book tour, he wrote a story about a guy on a hilltop who burned books. He decided at one of the stop had to be where he had met his inspiration. The work had been mostly fiction because he didn’t know the real story. It was just how his imagination thought it would be. Sometimes he wondered if the man stayed on that hill still after all that time.

He walked up the hill and felt maybe a bit sad when he saw nobody sitting there. Why would he still be there, why was he getting his hopes up? Jack asked himself.  
He sat down and looked up, the sky was getting dark again. Jack regretted never asking a name, he regretted never talking to the guy he spend months with, but it always seemed comfortable. He felt tears on his cheeks.

Suddenly somebody dropped down next to him, his heart started racing. A hand softly stroked his back while the other clumsily ripped a page out of a book. Jack leaned into the contact and closed his eyes. This was real. One arm slid around Jack and held him.

“i read your book.” it was the first thing the man had ever said next to the growl. His voice was deep and soothing. He pulled the book out of his backpack, in it was the letter Jack had written him. The man felt warm and like home, “thank you for painting me so nicely.” He leafed through the book and smiled for the first time Jack saw him. 

He ripped a new page out of the book he was ripping before. They sat in silence again and Jack questioned if he ever wanted to go. This place, right here on the hill, felt like his home and the stranger felt like family. Jack sat there, pressed against the stranger who was burning pages, he rest his head against the man's shoulder and thought about how he aged well.  
Jack wanted to ask him so much but he didn’t want to break this perfect silence.

“I know your name is Jack.”The man spoke first after he put down the now half empty book. His eyes were dark but soft at the same time. Jack just nodded as response. The man told him that Jack looked like a trainwreck while staring at the last burning page. Jack told the man that that was true but that he also was a trainwreck but one that burned book. He stared into the distance and wanted to ask why he burned those books and whose handwriting it was. Jack shook his head and closed his eyes to think. Suddenly he felt two lips softly pressed against the side of his head.

“I’ll probably never come back.” the sun was rising already. They had fallen in their old routine of sitting together and looking at the burning pages. Jack had spoken with a soft voice.

The boy looked at him with a sad look in his eyes, “i know.”   
The birds were already whistling their songs while they still sat there, neither of them wanted to get up and leave this moment. Jack leaned his head against Mark’s shoulder. He wanted to ask him so many things at that moment. But he didn’t, he never asked the man anything anymore.

Jack got up and made the walk back, leaving the man alone with his books. His heart pounded painfully but he had said his goodbyes anyhow. Maybe he’d regret it, but life went on.


End file.
